


Not A Booty Call

by redgoldblue



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: 2x02, Donna being Donna, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, aka brilliant, alcohol as relationship starter, episode coda, getting them together, harvey being Good, mike being Soft and Earnest, which is also a theme in the major fic i'm working on rn and i don't know what to make of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redgoldblue/pseuds/redgoldblue
Summary: A 2x02 coda wherein Mike realises the real reason he wouldn't tell Rachel his secret.





	Not A Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally planning to just post this on Tumblr because it was only supposed to be like 500 words, and then it hit 2000 and kept going, so I figured I'd post it here for y'all

“Hey!”

Harvey let his hand drop from the doorknob and sighed. “What are you doing here?”

Mike waved the hand not propping him up against the doorway in an assessing wag at Harvey’s sweater and slacks. “What are you doing...?” He trailed off. “Actually. You look good.”

“If this is a booty call, Mike, I’m not interested.”

“No. No. Well, I mean. No. Kinda. No. No it’s not.”

Harvey frowned. “Are you drunk?”

He put his index finger and thumb close together and peered at Harvey through them. “Little bit. Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. My bike is downstairs.”

“You  _rode_ here? On your New York death machine?”

“No. Well, yes, but not to come here. I don’t think. And I was sober then. Anyway. I needed to put it somewhere, so I put it here. Only now I don’t...” he waved his hand languidly through the air. “I don’t think I really have the co- hmm. The coordination to ride it back.”

“Get a cab,” Harvey advised, ignoring the question of why Mike had crossed two suburbs when there were perfectly good bars within minutes of his own apartment.

“No money.”

“I know that’s a lie, we got paid yesterday.” 

He stood up straight and made an exaggerated show of patting his pockets. “No money on me.”

“Then how did you manage to get drunk?”

“I  _had_ money on me. I don’t anymore. That’s how buying things works.”

“Why didn’t you-“ He sighed. “Fine. Come in.” He walked back in to the kitchen, leaving the younger man to shut the door behind him. There was a faint bang, then a few seconds later he heard him whisper, “Whoa.”

He looked over his shoulder. Mike was standing next to the couch, staring out the floor to ceiling glass at the admittedly impressive view of the city. He felt his gaze and glanced back at him. “This is... whoa.”

“You’ve been here before, Mike. Not two days ago, in fact.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean, I wasn’t really paying attention. Also it was three days ago. So not two days ago but not in the not two days ago way ago.”

Harvey pushed a mug under his coffee machine and turned around properly. “It was not three days ago.”

“Yeah it was. It’s past midnight.”

“It-” he looked at his watch. “Oh. It is.”

Mike wagged a finger at him. “You should learn to trust me, Harvey.”

“I do trust you, Mike.”

Mike blinked uncertainly and looked back out the window. “Anyway. This is... whoa. Suits you.”

“What do you mean?”

He laughed. “You’re pretty whoa yourself, mister.”

Harvey sighed, and fully turned to face him. “Mike.”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me. If this is what I think it is, it’s not happening. Not while you’re like this.”

“What do you think it is?” He paused, and his forehead crinkled. “And what am I like?”

“What you are like is sad and drunk.” He slid a mug of coffee and a glass of water across the bench and beckoned him over, ignoring the first question. “And you’re going to drink these, and then another glass of water, so you are slightly less drunk and I don’t have to deal with headachey Mike at work tomorrow.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with headachey Mike?”

“He’s an asshole. Now come here and drink your water.”

He obediently walked over, grumbling. “He should fit right in then. Anyway, I’ll have you know that I am an angel and a gift in any form. Also. I’m not sad. Why would I be sad?”

Harvey stared at him. “I know you broke up with Rachel.”

He tipped his water glass back, letting most of it slide down his throat, then put it down and hummed thoughtfully, eyes focused on the cupboard handle above Harvey. “Yeah, but, I was thinking, I mean, you were right. Or maybe I was right. Anyway, someone was right. If I’m not willing to take the risk of telling her, then it’s not gonna work out, is it? I mean. It’s a risk. But I take risks. That’s what I do. I like to think I don’t, but I mean. That’s how we met.”

Harvey watched him from the other side of the bench, waiting out the drunken speech.

“Okay, maybe I’m a bit sad. I do want to tell her. I like her. I don’t want to keep secrets from her. But, like, if I’m still not actually willing to tell her even though I want to, then I’m pretty sure that means I don’t like her enough for it to work. I’m not invested enough in it? Or I don’t trust her enough? Or something like that. Anyway, my point is. I’m sad I can’t tell her and I’m sad that she’s sad, but I’m not sad.”

He paused. Harvey waited.

“And. I think maybe there’s another reason too. I think maybe I didn’t want it to work out anyway. Because then...” He trailed off and brought his gaze down to Harvey’s eyes. The older man leant over the bench and put his hand briefly over Mike’s, before replacing it with the coffee mug. “Not like this,” he repeated softly.

He dropped his gaze, and picked up the mug, burying his face in it. “Mmm,” he murmured.

Harvey sighed. “Go to bed, Mike.”

He jerked his head up. “What? I thought we established I don’t have the coordination?”

He chuckled. “We did, although I’ve gotta say I’m not seeing any proof of that. But I didn’t mean your bed anyway, I meant mine.”

“Where are you gonna go?” he asked, a hopeful tint to his voice.

“Does this really look like an apartment that doesn’t have a spare bedroom?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He extended a hand towards him and Mike absently put his own hand in it.

“The mug, you idiot.”

“Oh! Yeah.” He withdrew his hand and slid it across the bench. 

Harvey rolled his eyes and put it in the sink, then walked around and across the living room, beckoning to him. “Come on. I’ll show you the bedroom.” 

Mike followed along behind him, puppy dog visage firmly in place. Harvey pushed the third door down open, leaving his hand on the door. “You know where the bathroom is, right?”

He waved a hand vaguely in the right direction and Harvey nodded. “Close enough. Don’t vomit on my good sheets. Goodnight.”

Mike sat down on the bed and looked at him, questions in his eyes.

“Goodnight,” he repeated more firmly.

Mike took a deep breath and nodded. “Goodnight.” 

Harvey took his hand off the door and let it swing shut. He stood there for a moment, staring past the light wood in front of him, then turned around and headed to his own bed.

 

Mike woke up slowly, wincing at the light coming through the curtains. He dragged himself to a sitting position, and was completely bewildered for a moment before he remembered where he was. He winced again, this time at the memories starting to come back. That hadn’t been the way he’d planned to approach the subject. But he hadn’t shut him down. He’d said not now, not not at all. Maybe he hadn’t completely fucked it up. In a way, he was almost relieved now, that he no longer had to screw up the courage to approach it, and that was probably what his alcohol-infused subconscious had been aiming at last night.

He pulled himself out of bed and tidied the sheets, then walked out. He’d expected to see Harvey there, and was almost glad that he wasn’t until he looked at the time and realised that he must already be at Pearson Hardman. And he’d have to ride his bike the even longer distance from Harvey’s apartment to the firm. He groaned and picked up his bag, then walked out, letting the door shut behind him with a resounding thump.

 

Mike stepped out of the lift and was immediately ambushed by Louis.

“There you are. You’re late.”

He nodded and continued walking. “I know, I’m sorry, I just have to-“

Louis moved back in front of him, blocking his way. “Nuh-uh. I’m gonna go ahead and assume that sentence ended with ‘do something involving Harvey’, and no you don’t. I need you and your photographic memory in the library, helping with the research on this.” He handed him a case file, which he reluctantly took. “Apparently no-one else in this godforsaken firm can remember a set of numbers from one minute to the next.”

“Okay, but before I do that, can I just go-“

He snapped his fingers and pointed to the left. “No. Library. Now.”

Mike opened his mouth to protest again, then closed it and sighed. “Fine.”

“Good.” 

He glanced over his shoulder as he left, and Louis raised his eyebrows and made a shooing motion at him.

 

“Where the hell is Mike?”

Donna looked up at Harvey, leaning out of the office door. Before she could reply, he continued, “I don’t care how bad his headache is, I didn’t say he could not come in. I need to talk to him.”

“Louis has got him in the library working on the Burns case,” she interjected. “Why would he have a headache? And more pressingly, why would you know about it?”

Harvey refrained from answering, instead quickly saying, “Send him in when he escapes, okay?” and backing into his office.

“Oh no,” Donna said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She followed him, grabbing the door handle from him. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

He sat down and lifted a document in front of his eyes, pretending to read it.

“Why were you with him last night? And come to that, why do you need to talk to him? You don’t have any cases coming up.” She gasped and took another step inside, letting the door shut behind her. “Did you two...?”

“No!” he protested, dropping the act along with the piece of paper. “He was drunk.”

“But he tried to.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what he was trying to do. But I promised him we’d talk about it today.”

She dropped onto the couch. “I can’t believe you’re finally facing up to it. God bless alcohol.” 

There was a brief pause, then she frowned. “How drunk was he?”

“Very when he turned up at my door. Less so when I put him to bed.”

She coughed. “Put him to bed?”

“In the guest room, you- again, he was drunk.”

“Yeah, okay. I don’t want to put you off this, but are you sure he remembers it?”

His gaze slid off her face. “No.”

“Well, let me talk to him first. I can tell you.”

“Fine. But don’t mention it to him.”

She put a hand over her heart. “What do you take me for, Harvey? Subtlety is my middle name. Donna Subtlety Paulsen, that’s me.”

“Your middle name is Roberta.”

“Alright, Reginald.”

“Go. Talk to him. Try to get him back here?”

She gave him a two-finger salute and grinned, then marched out of the office with purpose.

 

Mike looked up from the paper spread out in front of the table on him to see Donna striding in, hair bouncing. “Thank god,” he muttered under his breath. If anyone could get him out of here, she could. Her gaze landed on him, and he silently mouthed ‘please’ at her. She winked at him, then walked over to Louis. Mike watched her flip through a variety of postures, from demanding through pleading, while Louis kept his arms crossed and shook his head repeatedly. Finally she shrugged and left, walking past Mike to whisper to him, “Sorry, he knows Harvey hasn’t got any active cases.”

He turned in his seat to watch her walk out, then sighed heavily and turned back around.

 

“He remembers.”

Harvey looked up. “Then where is he?”

“Sorry, short of a fire, there’s no way Louis is letting him out of there until he’s got everything he needs for Burns. Ha.”

He frowned at her.

“Fire. Burns. Get it?”

He rolled his eyes, then waved her out.

“Actually, before I go back to sitting out there being bored out of my mind, I have a suggestion.”

“Yes?”

“If you want to get him out of there sooner so you can actually talk to him, you could go help them with the research. Instead of sitting here having an anxiety attack.”

“I am not having an anxiety attack.”

“Oh yeah? So that piece of paper has been shredded by the sheer intensity of your calmness?”

He looked down at the pile of paper pieces in front of him that she was referring to, and shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Trust me, Harvey, this is the better option for everyone involved. Just as long as you don’t kiss him until you’re back here and I can see, or it’ll be bad for everyone involved.”

“You’re a voyeur, you know that?”

“You wound me. I’ve been wanting this to happen for a year, can you blame me for wanting to see it? Now, go help him.”

He put his hands on the desk and pushed himself up. “Alright, I’m going.”

She held the door open for him, calling after him, “Remember, hands to yourself until you’re back here!”

 

“Everyone, eyes and ears on me!” 

Everyone dutifully turned to where Louis had clambered on top of a table at the front of the library. 

“By some miracle, you’ve managed to get all the hard stuff done for now. Therefore, everyone but-“ he paused and narrowed his eyes, then listed off, pointing at the respective associates as he did, “Diers, Riley, and Mateus can go back to whatever far less important work you were doing before. Any questions? Good. Dismissed.”

Mike heard someone one table along say, “fuck that, I’m going home,” and their friend hiss in an undertone, “you really think Jessica’s going to let you?”, as Harvey stood up from the chair across from him. He paused, hand on Mike’s shoulder, to quietly request, “Come to my office after you’ve packed up,” then swept out of the library. Mike watched him go, then turned back to the table and started gathering files up, almost knocking them off the table in his haste.

 

He stopped outside the door. Harvey was sitting behind his desk, jacket hung over the back of his chair, head bent but eyes unfocused, and he really didn’t know what to do with that. He turned to Donna, who was staring at him with raised eyebrows. 

“What are you waiting for? He asked for you.”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Well, go in, idiot.”

“Hey.”

She rolled her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of Harvey, who still seemed to be frozen in position. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A repeated fast tapping against the underside of the desk reached his ears just as it stopped and Harvey stood up. He placed his hands palm down on the warm wood and looked directly at Mike, silent. Mike returned it for about ten seconds before he bit his lip and dropped his gaze just slightly. “You told me to come in after I finished in the library,” he said, the confrontation behind his tone at odds with his body language.

Harvey walked around the desk to lean against it, facing Mike without the barrier between them, but didn’t reply.

“Did we get a case?”

The silence continued, and Mike shifted his weight awkwardly. “If this is about last night... I- I don’t...”

Harvey spoke for the first time, voice carefully balanced, an unweighted question. “You don’t?” 

He paused, and swallowed dryly. “Well, I do-“

He was cut off before he could finish the sentence, and it took him a moment to realise why. Then he forgot that he’d been talking at all, because Harvey was kissing him, head bent and hands on his shoulderblades. He gasped, a sharp intake of breath, and let his hands fall to Harvey’s hips. The suddenly burning heat on his shoulders from the light contact battled with heat seeping through the silky material at Harvey's hips, and both were defeated by the onslaught of sense coming from whisper-light stubble and cedarwood scent and cool whiskey-tinged lips. Even though he knew it was unnecessary, he bent his mind to memorising it, before Harvey broke away and leant back slightly, chest rising and falling.

The first words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think were, “Oh, thank god.”

He tilted his head back to look him in the eyes for a moment, then they both laughed with equal parts relief and acknowledgment of the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I thought you were just going to- why didn’t you say something?” Mike exclaimed.

“I don’t know, I didn’t love the idea of this happening with Louis and the entire office able to see, did you?” Harvey retorted, grinning. He let his hands fall, leaving one in Mike’s hand as the other fell back to his side.

“Your office has glass walls.”

“Alright, fair point. Donna wouldn’t let me do it where she couldn’t watch.”

Mike laughed in shock and shook his head. He turned around to look out the door, and saw Donna leaning on the outside of her desk looking in. She gave him a huge grin and two enthusiastic thumbs up.

“I don’t know whether to be pleased she’s on our side or annoyed that she’s already controlling it.”

“She controls everything, we had no chance.”

She leant on the door just enough to open it and sing, “You know it!” before winking at Mike and backing back out.

Mike laughed and Harvey shook his head. “Just come in if all you’re going to do is stand out there and listen to us.”

“Isn’t that what you pay me for?” she asked, reversing direction and walking in. 

“No, and you know it.”

“Oh no, that’s right, you pay me to stop your life from collapsing. Looks like I’m doing a pretty good job, huh?” She put her arms around the both of them and squeezed them, then backed off. “Love you both. You should give me a raise.” She swung her legs over the arm of the sofa and blew a kiss at them. 

Harvey let go of Mike, and he sat down in one of the chairs, all tension falling out of his body. Harvey bent over his desk, turning off his computer and shuffling papers, then straightened up and pointed at Donna, eyebrows raised. She nodded, and he moved the gesture to Mike. “We’re leaving.”

“It’s only 2 o’clock, won’t Jessica be mad?”

“Donna will handle Jessica.” He extended a hand to him. “We’re leaving.”

Mike allowed himself to be pulled up, and grinned. “Alright, I can handle that. Where are we going?”

“Home,” he replied, brushing their lips together.

Mike pushed his shoulder. “What’re you waiting for then?”

Harvey laughed. He pushed the door open and gestured through it, lips curved. “Mr. Ross.”

“Mr. Specter.”

Donna’s whoops followed them out, laughing and with their arms around each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find a way to put this in without disrupting flow, but just to be clear, Donna will make sure no-one else learns/talks about it until Mike tells Rachel himself.


End file.
